I looked up at the clock as I entered the kitchen, 11pm and still light outside. Not only was it light but I had just been floating around in a Kayak in the middle of the Iona sound for 3 hours fishing and watching the sunset on a perfectly calm evening. There is something magical about a day that begins with the first rays of sunlight at 4am and doesn’t truly get “dark” until at least 11 or 12pm. Even when night has set in and the brilliance of the millions of visible stars is cast over the ocean one can still look down along the horizon to the north east and see the cool blue glow of the sun against the night sky. On Erraid the sun never really sets, rather it moves around the horizon from left to right only disappearing as it dips below the mountains on the horizon.
This dude is the “Angel of Erraid”, created a few years ago and stands atop the small hill by the croft. Happened to catch him just at the right moment during the sunset.
“Doesn’t it always rain in Scotland?” These words, or something to that effect, are ones I have heard year in year out whenever I tell people where I will be spending my summer. It is certainly true that I yearn for an island that can have wind and waves so damaging that they rise 2 meters above the high water mark and knock down the stone wall in front of the Croft . Yes, I do dream of a place where the rain can batter the windows of the house for hours, if not days, on end. I have spent summers on Erraid in the past where the sun is only really shining for a few days at most out of two or three weeks. The fact still remains that I wouldn’t trade one rained filled week on Erraid for any other place on this planet, that’s how good it really is. I have dreamed many times, especially in the past few years, of waking up every morning in the croft to the sound of the waves and the calls of the Oyster Catchers in the bay. I am still pinching myself trying to come to grips with the fact that I’m here in the croft living the dream I had dreamed of so many times while I sat idly punching meaningless numbers into a spreadsheet or aimlessly watching another re-run of Seinfeld in the evening because “that’s the only thing good on TV right now”. Don’t get me wrong I don’t have any issue with the lifestyle I came from and it’s the lifestyle I will likely return to when this adventure runs its course. I just don’t really understand why that lifestyle appealed to me. I’m sure there are lots of reasons but as I sit here in a comfortable chair in the best spot in the croft (the window-filled nook in the corner that juts out of the house with an unobstructed view looking out over the bay and parts of Erraid, Iona & Mull) I have trouble bringing them to mind.
I have been on Erraid now for almost a week and I feel more productive in that week that I have in the past two years. I arrived in a rundown state, fresh off a nightmarish (but somehow fun) trip up from Newcastle in the north of England. I was bleary eyed and my shoulders and back ached from carrying my massive rucksack and all my provisions down the treacherous walk from the farm on the hill overlooking the island to the front garden of the croft. This is the time when in similar states in the past I would have dropped everything I was doing and marched straight to bed for a 12 hour “nap”, but not here. I had walked into a paradise complete with blazing sunshine, crystal blue waters and yes, of course, massive amounts of sheep and cow shit. Instead of going to bed I was instantly given new energy and I basked in the full glory of an absolutely perfect morning. Sometime around 3 I went for a nap and when I woke up 2 hours later it was as if nothing had changed at all. It could have been 10 am all over again. The sun was still high in the sky and showed no signs of giving in to 5 o’clock. I knew right then that I was right where I needed to be.
After the first day I naturally expected to see some gray weather and rain but so far, not a drop of rain in a week. It’s been fantastic and given me time to get settled in the house. It was really nice to have Joe and all of his friends around for the first few days, they gave the croft life and helped me get some of the bigger jobs, like getting the boat in the water, out of the way. Every night a different set of 2 or 3 of us cooked a meal for everyone and I have to say I expected basic meals but was treated to feasts every night fit for royalty (but guess I am in the land of the queen after all). On Friday Joe and 3 others departed for Newcastle and the next morning after a relaxing evening and another spectacular meal the remaining 3 left. All of a sudden I found myself completely alone in the Croft. Now after months of planning and anticipation and over a week of travel to get here I was finally in the situation I had been preparing myself for. I expected some feelings of loneliness or homesickness but in actuality I was filled with excitement and joy at the thought that I was now King and sole occupant of the castle that is the croft. Now it was time to get to work!
I am only part way through the 3rd day of my being in the croft alone and already I have planted 61 leeks, 12 broccoli plants, 6 lettuce plants, reclaimed a large patch of the vegetable garden, rescued our chickens from their winter home up at the village and begun their re-education into super chooks (we’ve always called the chickens ‘chooks’)…
Two of my ladies eating some breakfast, they get whatever I say they get. Today’s menu was curry. These are no ordinary chickens. They come when I call…no matter where I am (video evidence to come), they eat from my hand, do tricks for food….and lay eggs luck motherfuckers (seriously, no slouches in the brood)!
My garden patch, the main garden is massive bit basically just looks like everything on the edges of this section, overgrown. Front left is lettuce, then behind that loads of Leeks, big potato plants down the middle and broccoli way in the back. I also discovered 2 huge Rhubarb in different places in the garden…and as I write the word “Rhubarb” spell check reminds me that I spelled it wrong on the bags I put in the freezer. Sorry about that mom.
…I have carried the boat engine back up the hill to the farm where we park the cars so that Glenn (friend, electrician, mechanic, all around handy-man and good guy)can look at it and hopefully fix it for me so I can get out to check the lobster pots I laid out when I first arrived with Joe’s friends. I saw Glenn passing our house in his boat and flagged him down only to find that he had already heard the engine was broken and that I could just take it up to his house and he’d have a look at it for me. I carried it up last night and as I was about to knock on the door Glenn threw it wide open and greeted me with a big smile. We took a quick look at the engine (which I thought was old but quickly learned was a “fighter jet” compared with many that he had seen). He told me he’d try to get it fixed in the next few days and promptly invited me in for a “cuppa” (slang/Scottish for a cup of tea). Delighted by the invitation I gladly obliged and before long found myself deep in a conversation about the current situation in Tibet with China while we sipped a couple of wee drams (a glass of scotch).
Last, but certainly not least, I have learned to ride my little Shenda 125. Its one mean machine and I’ll have words with anyone that tries to argue otherwise. The Shenda (as one of Joes friends informed me) is a knock-off of a very popular Honda motorcycle, basically the same in every way expect price, where it is much cheaper. It was Sam’s bike when he lived here last summer and for those of you who know Sam will know what I mean when I say its been through the trenches! The only way to start it is to hotwire the ignition cables together (the switch has long since gone), once the engine has power a couple dozen kick starts usually gets it going but once its been running and is warm there is a quick start button, that works about 1/3 of the time. The rear breaks are shot but no matter because as Andrew (joe’s friend and resident auto expert) calmly told me,” you really don’t need those anyway”. The main headlight doesn’t work and there is rust in various spots on the body. I kept looking at it as we drove up with it in the back of the van and thinking “how the hell is this thing going to get me anywhere?” As soon as it got on the island, courtesy of Andrew, it came alive. No big bike could navigate the humps and ditches that liter the island, no flashy paint job could bear to take the beating from the sand and salt like my Shenda. On my first real mission (down the long sand strip called the narrows that runs along the eastern side of the island) I got it up to 50mph and was feeling great, until I realized how quick the sea was coming up in front of me…and in I went, Shenda and all. I tried to ride out but stalled in about 5 or 6 inches of water. I figured the Bike was done after not being able to start it for several minutes but Andrew reassured me that it just needed to dry out a little. Sure enough an hour later the bike was raring for more. I have since figured out how to avoid massive bodies of water and today I got the bike back off Erriad and went for a long cruise on the real roads of Mull. I am addicted!
I guess throughout all of this post you are likely thinking to yourself “hang on, what happened to James becoming a fisherman?” Well I figured I would use the first week to get settled and then start making some calls over the weekend. My first call was to the most aptly named man on the planet, Jamie Fisher. Some of you would know him as the guy I had originally planned to work with before his boat was taken out of the water due to engine troubles. I figured it was worth a call anyway to see how he was doing and maybe invite him over for a scotch. He got back to me later that evening with the amazing news that his boat is finally back in the water! All this time I was stressing about a job and what I’d do if I couldn’t work with Jamie and now I realize what he meant when he replied to one of my concerned emails about work a few months back simply by saying that everything would sort itself out once I arrived up here. The upshot of our chat last night was that I begin work on his boat tomorrow morning at 8 am (this is a luxuriously late start time in the fishing world). I don’t know what to expect and we are both planning to just see how it goes for a few days and take it from there. Nevertheless, the bottom line remains that tomorrow at 8 am I become a fisherman! I’m off for an evening Kayak and fish, its only 5 o’clock so the sun won’t be setting for at least another 5 hours, wrap your head around that thought!
Wish me luck and I’ll fill you in in a few days with how its going, I’m sure there will be some interesting stories.
A couple of Joe's friends enjoying the sunset from the bay in the kayaks.
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